


Deserving

by KaskardenFluvia



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bookshop Drunk, Drunken Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Angst, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 17:26:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16580861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaskardenFluvia/pseuds/KaskardenFluvia
Summary: Aziraphale’s hand was lying on top of his. It almost felt like his skin was burning and he nervously glanced at their hands, almost expecting to see smoke rise from his hands. The angel lifted his hand again, grabbing his wine glass and lifting it to his mouth. Crowley kept staring at his hand, honestly surprised that the angel’s fingers hadn’t left a mark on the back of his hand.***Set shortly after the Almost-Apocalpyse





	Deserving

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back, I hope you enjoy this fic!

Crowley was overly aware of Aziraphale’s touch. He couldn’t remember when this awareness had started, if it had been when the angel had taken his hand at the airfield or a few days later, when they were walking through St James park together and their hands brushed against each other. For a second, he had felt almost brave enough to take his hand, but the moment had already passed. Or maybe it had been a few days ago, when Aziraphale had handed him the _Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch_ (which Anathema had gifted to the angel because she no longer had any use for it) and Aziraphale’s fingers had touched his and for a moment he thought it had been intentional. There had been a hundred and more similar moments, all of them replaying in his mind right now.

Aziraphale’s hand was lying on top of his again at the moment, an innocent gesture of assurance for something Crowley had forgotten the second Aziraphale’s skin had touched his. It almost felt like his skin was burning and he nervously glanced at their hands, almost expecting to see smoke rise from his hands. The angel lifted his hand again, grabbing his wine glass and lifting it to his mouth. Crowley kept staring at his hand, honestly surprised that the angel’s fingers hadn’t left a mark on the back of his hand.

“Are you alright, dear?” Aziraphale asked, and Crowley flinched, quickly turning his attention back to him.

“Yeah.” He choked out, taking his own wine glass and taking a big swig to calm his nerves. “Why?”

“You just seem a little bit distracted, that’s all.” Aziraphale said, setting his glass down again, a slight smile playing around his lips. “Is something bothering you?”

Crowley glanced at his hands on the table again and realised that they were shaking ever so slightly. He pressed them flatly against the table and faked a smile.

“Ah, just a bit nervous that Down Below will try and punish me after all.” He lied, hoping that he could convince the angel.

“Well, it’s almost been two months by now. Don’t you think they would have made a move by now?”

“Yeah, usually pretty fast to punish. I think I’m just a bit paranoid.” He answered and let out a fake chuckle. It sounded incredibly forced but Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice.

“Paranoia can be helpful sometimes.” He said wistfully, taking another sip from his wine. He looked at Crowley and smiled brightly. “Now, do you want to order dessert?”

***

Thankfully, there hadn’t been another _incident_ after they had ordered dessert. They hadn’t talked a lot, Crowley still too wrapped up in his own thoughts to hold a real conversation, so they had just sat in silence.

“Do you want to join me for another bottle of wine at the bookshop?” Aziraphale asked when they got up from their table, as I this wasn’t their usual routine, as if their weekly dinners didn’t always end the same way. One bottle of wine would turn into two, would turn into three, would turn into something more alcoholic and the next morning Crowley would wake up in the bed in Aziraphale’s small apartment above the bookshop, dreading and wishing to find the angel next to him every time. And every time he would find the angel downstairs, reading in the dusty back room and he’d make some remark about Crowley finally waking from the dead and Crowley would force himself to laugh before going home to his own apartment. It would always feel incredibly empty and dull and then he would spend the week regretting not telling Aziraphale about his feelings and promising himself that next time he would finally say something.

He never did.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to, he desperately wanted to tell him that all he thought about was the angel, that the angel even haunted him in his dreams, that he loved him so much that it sometimes felt like his heart would explode. But at the same time, he was suffocated by the fear of being rejected, the fear that one wrong word would destroy the carefully tied bond with the angel he had spend the las six millennia on making.

“Yes.” He answered the angel’s question as they stepped out of the entrance of the Ritz, making their way over to the parking lot. It was a cold evening, the wind whipping Crowley’s scarf around, the trees above them sending leaves raining down on the parking lot. They arrived at the Bentley and got in, Crowley turning on the radio as soon as he pulled out of the parking lot.

_I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sadness_

_We can do the tango just for-_

He blessed under his breath and punched the radio to cut Freddie Mercury off before he could finish his line. Another tape was lost, forever turned into a _Best of Queen_ album.

“You should really start keeping track of how long you leave your tapes in here.” Aziraphale said with an amused chuckle. Crowley huffed.

“Of course that little bastard would forget the windscreen-transfers, but leave the damn curse in.” He grumbled and Aziraphale laughed. Crowley rolled his eyes, focusing them on the street in front of him, even though he didn’t really have a reason to.

“Well, maybe it’s not even the car that’s cursed, but you.” Aziraphale proposed, clearly amused by Crowley’s annoyance. Crowley huffed again but didn’t say anything. The thought had occurred to him before, but he just hadn’t gotten around to testing it.

They arrived at the bookshop shortly after and hurried inside, Crowley pulling his scarf over his head to protect himself from the heavy rain that had started as soon as he had parked the Bentley. He let out a small sigh of relief when Aziraphale closed the door behind him, the cold wind no longer making him shiver. As always, the bookshop was comfortably warm, a welcome refuge from the cold. He heard the ruffle of clothes behind him and turned to see Aziraphale slip out of his coat, neatly putting it on the coat hanger next to the door. He held out his hand expectantly and Crowley quickly shook off his own coat, handing it over to the angel, carefully avoiding touching his hand. Aziraphale put Crowley’s coat next to his before turning again, stepping towards him. Suddenly, he frowned.

“You’ve got something…” He murmured, raising one hand, reaching for Crowley’s head. “…stuck in your hair.”

Crowley’s heart skipped a beat when he felt Aziraphale’s hand against his head, brushing over his hair. A second later his hand was gone again, and the angel smiled up at him, a satisfied look on his face.

“Is it gone?” Crowley coughed, trying to gloss over the fact that he could barely breathe, his heart hammering so loudly in his chest now that he was almost certain the angel could hear it. If he did, he didn’t comment on it, he just nodded and walked past Crowley, making his way over to the back room.

Crowley took a deep breath before following him, his breathing under control again. He watched as Aziraphale set the table with a quick wave of his hand, before walking over and taking a bottle of wine from the shelf hidden between the books.

“Something classical or something more modern?” He asked as he uncorked the bottle. Crowley shrugged.

“Your choice.” He said. Despite being around to watch the evolution of wine over the last millennia he had never actually _cared_ about the beverage. He liked its effect, not necessarily its taste. Aziraphale on the other hand new everything there is to know about wine and Crowley had listened to his lectures on which wine from which small French wine yard was the best countless times. He sat down on one of the armchairs next to the table and waited for Aziraphale to make his choice.

“Something classical then.” The angel murmured to himself and poured two glassed. He sat down as well and they clinked glasses.

“To a nice evening.” Aziraphale said, a bright smile on his face. Crowley forced himself to mirror his expression.

“Yeah, a nice evening.” He repeated, once again distracted by his own heart, hammering in his chest.

***

An hour later one bottle had already turned into two and was about to turn itself into three, when Crowley decided that he couldn’t take this any longer. Every time Aziraphale moved his heart accelerated, with every minute that passed his anxiety grew, his mind playing tricks on him. One second he was imagining Aziraphale’s hands gently running through his hair and the next he felt the angel push him away. He saw the smile on his face and his mind showed him how it would turn into disgust if he told him the truth. One moment he heard Aziraphale whisper confessions into his ear, the next he was shouting insults at him.

He stood up abruptly, spilling the rest of his wine as he set his glass down.

“It’s getting late.” He said, voice hoarse. “I think I’m gonna head home.”   

“Already? It’s barely even midnight.” Aziraphale said, glancing at his watch.

“I’m just tired, angel.” Crowley murmured and stepped around the table. Aziraphale grabbed him by the hand and he froze, his body going rigid. The angel didn’t seem to notice.

“Please, stay.” He begged and Crowley noticed that he was slurring slight a bit. He glanced down at the table and realised that while he had only two glasses of wine, Aziraphale had finished both of the open bottles by himself.

“I really should get going.” Crowley said sharply, trying to get his hand out of Aziraphale’s grip. Instead of letting go of him, the angel just brought up his other hand as well, clasping Crowley’s hand between his own.

“Please.” The angel mumbled. “I want you to stay.”

Crowley bit down hard on his trembling lip. Aziraphale gently brushed his thumb about the back of his hand and something inside of Crowley snapped. He yanked his hand free, whirling around on his heels.

“Do you _have_ to touch me all the time?” He shouted and the angel jerked back, pressing himself into his armchair.

“I-I-I- I didn’t –“ He stammered, his hands still hovering in the air. “I didn’t realise it bothered you.”

“It’s driving me _insane_!” Crowley snapped and Aziraphale opened his mouth, a shaky breath escaping him. He sat up straight again, his eyes clearing up. Apparently he had decided to sober up.

“I’m sorry.” The angel mumbled, fumbling with the hem of his sweater and avoiding Crowley’s gaze. “I read somewhere that it’s a good way to show affection. I would have stopped sooner if you told me to.”

Now it was Crowley’s turn to open his mouth in shock, a strangled sound escaping his throat.

“You-“ He started, his breath going faster. “You wanted to show affection? _Why?_ ”

Aziraphale looked at him again, the confused look on his face probably a mirror image of Crowley’s own expression.

“Because I’m in love with you.” He answered, voice flat. “I thought it was obvious.”

Crowley’s racing heard stopped suddenly, a sharp pain spreading through his chest, making it hard to breathe. For a second he thought he was going to black out, his vision already blurring before he managed to suck in another breath.

“What?” He choked, still reeling for air. His heart stuttered in his chest, but it was at least beating again.

“I’m in love with you.” Aziraphale repeated and Crowley nodded and fell down into his chair again. He stared at his trembling hands.

“Are you alright, my dear?” The angel asked quietly, and Crowley felt his warm hand on his arm. He didn’t try to shake it off.

“I think I just had a heart attack.” He murmured, rubbing his hand against his chest, which was still throbbing with pain.

“Oh dear, I’m sorry.” Aziraphale responded. “I didn’t think it would be such a huge shock to you.”

Crowley only shook his head in disbelief. There was no way that this was actually happening, he must have passed out drunk, this whole conversation had to be a dream.

But Aziraphale’s hand was still on his arm and it was warm, and it felt so _real._

“This can’t be real.” He muttered to himself and shook his head again.

“It is.” Aziraphale said softly, carefully lifting his chin with his hand, turning Crowley’s face towards him. “Why is it so hard to believe?”

Crowley stared at him with wide eyes, lips trembling.

“I don’t deserve you.” He finally breathed after a moment of silence. He tried to turn his head away, but Aziraphale’s hand was firmly holding it in place.

“You deserve so much, Crowley. You saved the world. You do so much good.” He whispered firmly. “You deserve to be _loved_.” The demon felt tears burning in his eyes.

“No, I-“ He started but Azirphale cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips.

“Yes, you do.” He said before lowering his hand again. He gently tugged at his arms and Crowley let himself be pulled out of his chair and into Aziraphale’s arms, melting into his chest as soon as he touched him. Azriraphale wrapped his hands around him, one hand petting his hair.

“You do.” He repeated and pressed a kiss against his temple. A sob escaped Crowley’s lips and he pressed his face into Aziraphale’s neck, tears of relief soaking into the collar of his sweater. All the anxiety, the exhaustion, the suffocating fear, it all disappeared in this moment. He slowly raised his hands, carefully putting them around Aziraphale.

“I love you.” The angel whispered in his ear and Crowley nodded, face still pressed against his neck. There was no need to respond, he just pulled the angel closer to him, a smile spreading across his face.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I'm still not all too happy with how this turned out, but I'm still gonna post it because I also don't have the energy to edit it a second time. I hope you still enjoyed it.   
> I'm also gonna teaser right here and now (so I feel obligated to write it, tbqh) that I will start a new multi-chapter fic in the near future so you can look forward to that if you want to. 
> 
> You probably know the deal by now: Not a native English speaker = please tell me if you notice any mistakes


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